


Fatalism

by spacingoutcadet



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Experimental?, Gen, Original Characters - Freeform, Self-Indulgent, Terrible Ghost, Terrible man, brief mentions of canon characters - Freeform, laces up clown shoes, yeets myself into the sun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21985690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacingoutcadet/pseuds/spacingoutcadet
Summary: A Risen's history, from the Dark Ages, through the rise of the City, and onward.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	1. I. Head in the Clouds

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to experiment with writing something lorebook-esque for an OC and how he would have interacted throughout Destiny's canon. This is also the first written work I've ever posted, I'm mostly exploring a bunch of short and long stories soo I'm not very confident about it.
> 
> But I love my OCs and I am shameless.

◈◈◈

_I. Head in the Clouds (Golden Age)_

◈◈◈

... _ un? _

“ _ -Yun? _ Are you listening?”

He turns to her, the warm hum of the jumpships outside distracted him. Music is playing on the radio. “Huh?”

“Have you been daydreaming again?” His sister pouts, leaning her arms on his desk. “Open your  _ hand.” _

He obliges and raises a brow, curious -- she takes that cue and places an intricately carved jade knot into his palms. Lovingly tied with gold and red thread.

His eyes widen in surprise.

“Carved this myself! So you can bring some luck to Venus. It’ll be the first and only one there.” She puffs her chest, proud, a cheeky grin spreads across her face. “Pretty nice, right? I’ll even encourage you to parade it around the Academy as an ad for my business.”

“O-Oh... Ying, this is… thank you.”

The jade shimmers viridian and the threads are soft. A soothing sensation washes over him when he holds it.   
  


“You’ve been so  _ flustered _ .” She beams, smacking both his shoulders with both her hands, knocks him out of his thoughts. “ _ Don’t worry so much! _ I know you’ll do great.” 

She ruffles his hair affectionately. His face turns red with exasperation.

“Look at you, going so far ahead! Your destiny is calling to you, just don’t forget about me when you get there.”   
  


“You sound just like  _ Mom _ .” He coughs and gently pushes away her hand, stiffly brushing his hair back after and scoffs. “As if I could ever forget your ugly mug.”

She smacks him again with no fury behind it. They laugh together.    
  


“But this calls for a celebration-” Xiu Ying picks up her datapad, “I’ll call Dad too and we can have dinner together before you go,  _ my treat. _ ”    
  


She walks away with a bounce in her steps, throwing herself back onto his couch, swiping across the screen languidly for the options.

“You don’t really have to, I know everyone’s busy. I’ll call and visit often.” but he knows he cannot stop his energy ball of a sister. “Transport’s really fast and convenient, and it’s not too expensive either.”

Music still plays on the radio. It’s a bad song, he thinks.

“Ying?” It’s his turn to call out to her.   
  


She characteristically tunes him out. “I hear Freehold has a fancy new ramen place. I know you like those.”

Yun Qi can’t believe he’s about to be bought over by food. He gingerly tucks her gift into his pocket, he hopes it’ll be some damn good ramen.

\--- --- ---

_ The world is fire and dark and I don’t know why. _

_ All the evacuation ships leaving Earth were filled to the brim so I’m getting pushed along out of the city -- there are so many of us in this sea, every one of us getting dragged further and further away. I have never seen so many people in one place -- why are we running if the Warmind and the Traveler will protect us? _

_ Where is my sister? Ying? _

_ Ying! _

_ I call out, I’m sure I did, but I can’t hear my own voice because I hear everything else and nothing at all. _

_ There’s crashing and screaming but I don’t know if one of them is hers. I wish I could be wrong so I don’t focus because everything is happening so quickly and so blurry and I still don’t understand. I don’t think anyone here does. I just know that we need to get out. Leave. Escape. _

_ Will I find her at the end? Maybe she’s managed to board a ship. I will have to call her when it’s over. And she will be alright. She will tell me I worry too much. _

_ I must have stepped on someone, they’re digging at my ankles and I almost trip and I am so sorry- _

_ I step on someone else and again. I cannot help it and I cannot stop apologizing my legs don’t feel like my own anymore. _

_ My body is pushed and pulled in every and no direction all at once and something drops but I cannot turn because I am turned and turning and pushing and pulling away and away and away _

_ I feel like I’m getting torn apart so please stop touching me. _

_ Then the hands are gone. _

_ Then the people around me are gone. _

_ Then I am gone too. _

_ Then pain. _

_ Pain _

_ Pain pain painpainpainpainpainpainPAINpainpainstopstop help Help pleasehelpmeSAVEme aah aaah AAAH AAAAAAAH _

_ Dark. _

_ Cold. _

_ Cold. _


	2. II. Of Wood and Snow

◈◈◈

_ I. Of Wood and Snow (Dark Ages I) _

◈◈◈

  
Cold.

The first thing I’ve ever known is cold.

And  _ pain _ .

My body is frost-bitten and I force my frozen-shut eyes apart. Everything hurts when your skin sticks with the ice. I cannot rub my face.

I don’t remember what my first words were; too busy choking up solid snow for a good minute. My throat is an icy fire gasping for frigid oxygen -- I cannot breathe -- I think I woke up in a bad place.

I don’t know where I am.

I don’t even know  _ who _ I am.

Eyes up, I hear a strange voice. So I look up.

There is a small... machine?

You’re awake, nice and reborn -- the voice, feminine, and tired, speaks -- you don’t know how long I’ve searched for another.

I am… reborn? 

...Another?

Am I not alone? 

No, she says, you are.

_ Oh _ , okay then. That’s nice to hear. Another shiver wracks my body -- I am reminded of my situation. I don’t know what else to think.

What are you? I inquire, curious.

A Ghost, she responds, your Ghost; My name is Ram.   
  


Ghost? She looks nothing like one.

Are you dead?

No, but you were- Oh, look, we have no time for this.

She darts off into the white and I almost lose sight of her.

Where are we going? I ask

Anywhere, she answers, and Nowhere.

I don’t understand, I say.

We need to get you up and running, so make yourself useful, she says, impatient -- Let’s test the strength your Light.

I still don’t understand, I repeat.

She says I will soon enough.

She glances at the woods around us and tells me that my name is Silas.

She doesn’t say that I will learn to hate that name.


	3. III. Samsara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bad ghost doo dododo doo doo do do do dooo
> 
> I’m planning to try something longer for the next chapter so I’m looking forward to that one! *rolls*

◈◈◈

 _III._ _Samsara (Dark Ages II)_

◈◈◈

He learns quick.

He should if he wants to survive.

One of his eyes is pale. Just a superficial error -- raising those before him must have strained my own Light.

I don’t see it as a mistake until he slips up.

And he best not.

\--- --- ---

It’s like riding a bicycle.

You fall down and get up.

Instead he’s fallen off a cliff so I follow after him to bring him back.

At first, his fingers refuse to bend and they move like a machine that hasn’t been oiled -- tries to flex away the muscular rigor mortis but to no avail.  
He’s tasted his second death, and he’s unable to process it.

Get up.

\--- --- ---

You can walk it off, follow me.

\--- --- ---

He hunts game alone. Fends for himself. It’s not like I can help.  
In pursuing his prey he becomes the prey, a Risen’s crossbow bolt finding home in his eyes and he dies quick. 

So I run.

I only return to fetch him once it’s safe to.

He wakes up with nothing. 

\--- --- ---

He dies to Risen again.  _ Careless. _

\--- --- ---

I test him.

I tell him to kill them before they kill you.

He looks at me, the first and only time I’ve ever seen him shocked, opens his mouth to speak. I tell him before he can, why do you think you were not my first?

He does not try to argue, and does as he is asked.

It’s always messy the first time. Don’t forget to get their Ghost too.

\--- --- ---

Stop counting the number of times you’ve come back. It’s better for your sanity this way.

\--- --- ---

Don’t keep a body count either. Hubris will slit your throat while you sleep. Keep your back to the trees and rocks.

\--- --- ---

What else can I do? he asks like a young child.

Many things and more, I tell him, you should find out.

And he does.  
He finds out his void burns colder than the snow on another lucky Risen.

\--- --- ---

You can take that town, it should be easier than Risen. They have food and shelter.

\--- --- ---

He’s looking at me different — It makes no difference to me, I am never his friend.

\--- --- ---

I remind him one day that I can find another one should he fail to live up to my expectations.

He tells me I will never find someone better.

\--- --- ---

I told him not to keep a body count and he hasn’t, because I’ve been keeping it for him.

He’s enjoying this.

\--- --- ---

He asks if I can be killed like the others he’s killed.

I say, Yes, I can -- but why would you ever want to?

You’ll just shoot yourself in the foot.

If I’m gone you will follow.

So you ought to take good care of me.

\--- --- ---

He no longer gasps when he resurrects, standing quick and practiced.

Let’s go, follow me, he says.

Good.

I will keep this one.


	4. IV. Hunch

◈◈◈

_IV. Hunch (Dark Ages III)_

◈◈◈

Demir shoots his revolver, loud and ringing, and his bullet finds home into the meat of the intruder’s shoulder.

The man starts and shrieks, slamming his hand over the puncture, before he bows his head in fearful surrender. He’s been caught.

The snow gives way to his approach, deft and cautious through the blizzard as his partner proceeds beside him in reunion, frames taut and guns drawn towards their prey’s back. They are only two men, dressed in thick furs and dark cloth. The man beside Demir appears aged and bald, with strong jaws, wide shoulders and small, watchful eyes — while Demir himself wore sparse armor, scraped together enough to protect his weaknesses, scarce enough to keep light. Behind his scarves he seemed much younger. Their Ghosts make two points of light penetrating the snowy fog, observers quietly watching alongside their Risen.

The man bites down his grunts as hot blood flows from his wound, keeping himself as still as stone while he forces his breathing to even. No panic, no writhing— the actions of one accustomed to pain.

“Stand up.” The older man, Galstian, says. He considers the stunned, trespassing man — from his head of bedraggled dark hair, down to his ragged snow-covered boots, and down to dead Brannon laying face down at his feet. “Turn around.”

The man listens, and obliges, rising carefully. Snow crunches under his feet as he steps around, wincing slightly from both the cold and the sting. Galstian immediately notes his one, odd-coloured eye.

 _“Who are you?_ ” He asks low, pressing further with a menacing gesture of his shotgun, as Demir circles around him. “Tell me.”

“Silas.” The man rasps, pressing his hand closer to his wound.

Galstian shoots Demir a quick look, to which he responds with a curt nod, still moving beside the strange man.

The man, Silas — his eyes dart sideways in a reactionary motion, only to return back to Galstian and his shotgun, as if remembering his place.

“I just woke up...” he pleads his case. “And I was _attacked_.”

Galstian draws closer, closing the distance for a better chance of another shot, and Demir considers the man, scrutinizing his every move in case he tries anything _funny_. Silas’ gaze flits back and forth, and he shivers silently.

“ _Pretty skilled_ , though.” Demir whistles, nudging the head of their ally with his foot. The fresh red from his neck spreads lazily against the immaculate white snow, and his broken Ghost lies beside him to complete the image. “First try?”

Silas’ face remains tense, daring to look at Demir in the eye, yet his face remains indifferent to his remark, turning paler than he already is as blood still pours through his fingers, a reminder of his time. The small movement around Silas’ mouth suggests he’s chewing down on himself, either to contain his retort, or to stop himself from spitting at his feet. Demir decides he didn’t like that look, lining his gun readily against Silas’ head-

“ _Wait._ ” Galstian raises a staying hand, and Demir gives him a curious glance. “Don’t do that.”

Demir raises a brow, eyes half-lidded and annoyed. _And why not?_ It says. Silas stares down at the barrel, leaning away from its aim. Brannon is still bleeding lifeless at their feet.

It’s quiet for a short few moments, with only the biting cold and howling winds as company, before Galstian deeply sighs through his nose.

“We’ll take him to Yuein.” he decides, finally. “These are her lands, she’ll decide his fate.”

Silas turns back to look at his newfound benefactor with mild surprise. Demir as well.

“Well, _in case_ you didn’t know _who’s_ on the ground-”

“Brannon was going to be a liability sooner or later with his _recklessness_ anyway.” Galstian explains, his voice gruff and dry. ”If not for him, it would have been _us._ Maybe Yuein can put him to work, or something.”

Demir takes a moment, before he nods, shrugs and holsters his revolver, seeming to agree. It was true after all.

Galstian moves first, fur-clad legs wading through the heavy snow and lowers his shotgun, only looking back once more at their captive. “Come on. Get your Ghost to heal you, too, we’ll be walking for a while. And _do not_ try anything.”

“Got it.” Silas mutters.

Then Demir skirts past him and gives him a hard welcome pat on the shoulder he’s shot, eliciting a pained _hiss_ from their newcomer. That lax hand turns into a vice grip on his clothes, one more reassurance of this situation.

“ _Sorry about that_.” Demir shrugs, entirely unapologetic, and sweeps past him to tail after his friend, pulling him along.

Silas quietly, and obediently, follows them.


End file.
